


bitter

by Offwithherhead88



Category: Elsa - Fandom, Jack Frost - Fandom, Jelsa - Fandom
Genre: Curses, F/M, Gods, Immortality, Multi, ROTG - Freeform, Romance, Smut, Yodenheim, frozen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offwithherhead88/pseuds/Offwithherhead88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyes as fathomless as an ocean of stars...<br/>In her youth, Elsa had been captivated by those very eyes; staring back her as if they truly saw her. The childish but intriguing notion brought a magenta tint to her cheeks; he was Folklore of Norse Myth and only a mere drawing in her favorite childhood book. Jack Frost was a story told to children as a fantastical reason for the changing of season. There was no such thing as a Winter Spirit, gods, nor magic of that sort. But a question tugged at her mind, desperate for an answer. What if it wasn't just a bedtime story or folklore of the past?Her magic was very much real. Couldn't his be too? Could the legends of the Old World be filled with some truth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following works stem from the theme of thus films. However, liberties have been taken with rooting said characters' origins back to Norse Mythology. 
> 
> This work is dark in nature, with few tones of happiness. If you're hoping for fluff and perfect endings, this will sorely disappoint. Enjoy!

Eyes as fathomless as an ocean of stars...  
In her youth, Elsa had been captivated by those very eyes. She almost felt ridiculous for fantasizing about him as a little girl. After all, he was a fairytale and only a mere drawing in her favorite childhood book. Jack Frost was a story told to children as a fantastical reason for the changing of season. There was no such thing as a Winter Spirit and magic of that sort. But a question tugged at her mind, begging for an answer. What if it wasn't just a story? Her magic was very much real. Couldn't his be too?


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> •This work can also be located on Wattpad under the name JKFairchild•

*****

The pit of her stomach pooled with warmth. His fingers slid gently along her jaw; delicately as if she were made of glass. His eyes searched hers, no longer afraid of her reaction. She could turn him into a statue of ice and he wouldn't care. He would have this of her whether or not she gave him the permission. 

"I see you, Elsa." His breath was cool against the warm skin of her cheek. 

"Jack... I, " she started; her sentence cut short by the connection of their lips.

Her hands, once balled tightly at her side, now relaxed as a blue glow began radiating from them like an aurora borealis. His hands firmly but gently cradled her neck as he asked an unspoken question. 

Elsa felt his soft lips open, his tongue gently pressing, and tasting hers. Propriety told her that this was not Queen behavior.... Oh gods....propriety be damned! She opened her mouth in answer. Her hands bunched in the fabric of his sweater, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss. Jack's once cool fingers tangled into her blonde hair and began to radiate warmth. He never imagined he would feel this way.... His very center was on fire, melting the ice barrier around his heart.


	3. The Dreams of Children

Queen Idun of Arendelle pulled the blankets up around her wide eyed daughter, carefully tucking her in for the night.

"How's that, sweetie, nice and warm?" Her hands were busy creating a pocket of warmth around the restless five year old.

Elsa smiled at her mother's attempt to keep out the chill of the night. "It doesn't bother me, mama." 

Her mother stilled her ministrations and looked up at her daughter, smiling and giving her small hand a gentle squeeze. "I know darling, I just want you to be cozy." 

"Will you read to me?" Elsa slid her hand underneath her pillow to retrieve her favorite book of fairytales. It was her most treasured possession, and while she never minded Anna playing with her things, this was kept safe out of reach.

"You never have to ask." The queen pulled up the rocking chair she used to nurse Elsa in when she was still a babe and opened up the book her daughter procured. "What will it be tonight?" Her fingers paged through the thick book, passing tales of knights slaying dragons and Norse gods of old; stilling on the story she was sure her daughter would ask for.

"Jack, mama. You know it's my favorite." She giggled pulling her stuffed white bunny to her chest and giving it a squeeze. Her mother smiled, blue eyes soft with knowing.

"Yes, I know."

Like every night Queen Idun read the story of Jack Frost, bringing to life a world where her daughter could find companionship in her powers and no longer feel alone. Elsa always listened closely as if it were her first time hearing the story. Her mother's heart squeezed at the way her daughter's eyes lit up in wonder at the notion of another with her abilities. 

She spun and wove Jack's story with skill and ease, never once having to look at the words; she had committed the words to memory from repetition. The queen knowing all too well that Elsa had too. With every close of the story, Elsa always had a thought provoking question for her mother, testing the queen's reaction and answer.

"Do you believe Jack Frost is real, Mama?" 

The Queen set down the book and looked at her daughter, blue eyes like her own staring back with curiosity. The dreams of children were so important to their growth and self discovery that the queen hesitated to answer. She knew her daughter would hold on to the tale of Jack Frost as unquestionable truth, should she further encourage it. Deep down she feared that it would only cause tremendous disappointment in her daughter when she found out the truth; that he was only ever a myth and that Elsa was completely alone in her gifts. "Elsa, Jack Frost is just a legend past down from generation to generation. It's a beautiful story, my love, but it's only a story." Her mother slid the book into her daughter's lap and gently brushed her fingers through her soft blonde hair.

"If I can be real, then so can he." Elsa said defensively, the room began to grow cold as swirls of ice began to inch and dance across the windows. The fireplace in the room flickered and weakened at the change of climate. She tucked herself and the book underneath the protection of her covers, obscuring herself from her mother's view; book clutched to her breast.

The Queen knelt down by the bed, her voice hushed and kind against the blankets. "Oh my love, believe in whatever your heart tells you to. Sometimes mother's and father's forget what it is to believe in the impossible and it takes miracles like you to remind us that there is still magic in the world. Can you forgive me?" 

Elsa slowly peered out from under the comforter and nodded her head slowly; the ice and cold receded and the room filled with warmth from the reviving fireplace. "Of course I do." She reached up then, arms open for her mother to embrace her tightly. The Queen snuggled her daughter close, her nose buried in the softness of Elsa's hair and inhaled deeply. 

"I love you my little Snow Queen."

*****

Elsa pulled the book out from under the blankets and opened it to her favorite page; small fingers gently caressing the embellished paper. His hair was white like the sparkling snow his bare feet stood on and his eyes were a deeper, but more vibrant blue than her own. She wished with all her might that Jack Frost was real and that he would take her away. They could build snowmen together and grand castles made of ice. She wouldn't have to be so careful anymore or afraid to hurt someone. He could teach her everything he knew and show her how to control her powers, but more importantly, she wouldn't be alone.

The fireplace popped and crackled, radiating an uncomfortable heat. It bothered her when her room was kept warm at night. She preferred the cold; she slept easier that way. With one swipe through the air with her small hand the fire went out; a frost enveloping the once blazing logs.

Elsa snuggled deep into the comfort of her bed, hand resting on the picture of her fairytale friend.

"Goodnight, Jack."


	4. The Loss of Time

How many winter seasons had come and gone? The world was changing and evolving with every intake and exhale of breath. Jack Frost used to count the days and years, but when two hundred sped past him in a silent blur he began to lose all interest in keeping track. What was the point? With no one who could see him other than animals and the Guardians, all whom which never had the time for conversation, except for Sandman, if that even counted as conversation; very little gave him motivation to notice anything of worth. 

Many times Jack had asked the Man on the Moon his purpose in creating him. There was only ever silence. He had begun to doubt that there was even such a being. He hadn't spoken a word to him since he told him his name and role as a Winter Spirit, but even then, he couldn't be too sure it wasn't imagined. Not even a simple whisper was uttered.

Darkness had been his beginning; it was all that he could see. What the hell was all of this for anyway? He had but a name, with no recollection of a past, and it was driving his soul further and further into a numb void. With each passing decade, Jack felt the pull and desire of unleashing destruction and chaos. He could do it if he wanted. After all, he had the power to freeze the earth, sending it back into an Ice Age, if it tickled his fancy. The constant duty of changing the summer season into fall and winter had grown mundane. It had lost it's beauty and significance, but most of all, it had lost it's magic. A magic that once gave spirit to his old bones. With no one to truly share this eternal existence with, the sense and pursuit of "right and good" seemed almost in vain. 

Maybe it was morality, or call it a dissolving hope that something was going to give, that kept the darkness at bay. Whatever it was holding him together, it was weakening, and everything that was "good" in him was under threat of disappearing entirely. Day after day of watching life begin with a fierce cry to a final closing sigh, put his existence into a grey perspective. Surely he had a beginning as well? It all couldn't have been dark and silent? What was the goddamn point to all of this?

*****

Burgess, Pennsylvania was falling asleep. Very few carriages ushered along the cobblestone streets, and even fewer souls braved the bitter cold that seemed to steal away the pleasant cool of fall. Jack Frost leaned against the cool metal of a lamppost; staring up at the burning oil, flame flickering against the biting wind that slipped through the glass panes. 

He watched as a finely dressed gentleman pulled his cloak closer, cheeks and nose red from the wind's bitterness, battling the newly changed climate. Jack, being in a dismal mood, inhaled and blew a gust of arctic wind in the gentleman's direction. The gentleman's top hat flew from atop his head and tumbled down the almost deserted sidewalk. A chuckle rumbled from Jack's chest as he watched the man spurt and stumble after it. 

"Have fun catching that!" He laughed.

The night's sky lit up with dazzling golden streams of dreaming sand. Jack's deep blue eyes lit with the glowing reflection of Sandman's handy work. He longed to know what dreaming was like. Sleep was not an essential part of his existence as it was to mortals, but that didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't every so often.

The plump silhouette of the Guardian flew above, fingers busy weaving and conducting their magic. Jack had always admired the work of Sandy. Many times he found himself watching the ever changing facial expressions of dreaming children. Not that he made a frequent habit of it, but he had a curious nature. The way their faces relaxed in surrender to dreamworlds always made Jack jealous that he never experienced the same.

He once asked Sandy if there was something wrong with him, something that may have caused the reasoning behind his lack of dreams. The golden Guardian merely smiled and shook his head, confusing symbols of a time watch and a dripping heart shimmered above his wryly hair. Whatever that was supposed to mean...

Jack's eyes unfocused and his mind wandered as the wind lifted him away, caressing the bareness of his feet and calves like a lover. His brown cloak rippled in the brisk breeze that trailed him wherever he went. Without a care for his destination, he allowed himself to be carried across the sea and above mountain tops. Hours, or perhaps days had passed. He wasn't counting.


	5. The Loss of Time

How many winter seasons had come and gone? The world was changing and evolving with every intake and exhale of breath. Jack Frost used to count the days and years, but when two hundred sped past him in a silent blur he began to lose all interest in keeping track. What was the point? With no one who could see him other than animals and the Guardians, all whom which never had the time for conversation, except for Sandman, if that even counted as conversation; very little gave him motivation to notice anything of worth. 

Many times Jack had asked the Man on the Moon his purpose in creating him. There was only ever silence. He had begun to doubt that there was even such a being. He hadn't spoken a word to him since he told him his name and role as a Winter Spirit, but even then, he couldn't be too sure it wasn't imagined. Not even a simple whisper was uttered.

Darkness had been his beginning; it was all that he could see. What the hell was all of this for anyway? He had but a name, with no recollection of a past, and it was driving his soul further and further into a numb void. With each passing decade, Jack felt the pull and desire of unleashing destruction and chaos. He could do it if he wanted. After all, he had the power to freeze the earth, sending it back into an Ice Age, if it tickled his fancy. The constant duty of changing the summer season into fall and winter had grown mundane. It had lost it's beauty and significance, but most of all, it had lost it's magic. A magic that once gave spirit to his old bones. With no one to truly share this eternal existence with, the sense and pursuit of "right and good" seemed almost in vain. 

Maybe it was morality, or call it a dissolving hope that something was going to give, that kept the darkness at bay. Whatever it was holding him together, it was weakening, and everything that was "good" in him was under threat of disappearing entirely. Day after day of watching life begin with a fierce cry to a final closing sigh, put his existence into a grey perspective. Surely he had a beginning as well? It all couldn't have been dark and silent? What was the goddamn point to all of this?

*****

Burgess, Pennsylvania was falling asleep. Very few carriages ushered along the cobblestone streets, and even fewer souls braved the bitter cold that seemed to steal away the pleasant cool of fall. Jack Frost leaned against the cool metal of a lamppost; staring up at the burning oil, flame flickering against the biting wind that slipped through the glass panes. 

He watched as a finely dressed gentleman pulled his cloak closer, cheeks and nose red from the wind's bitterness, battling the newly changed climate. Jack, being in a dismal mood, inhaled and blew a gust of arctic wind in the gentleman's direction. The gentleman's top hat flew from atop his head and tumbled down the almost deserted sidewalk. A chuckle rumbled from Jack's chest as he watched the man spurt and stumble after it. 

"Have fun catching that!" He laughed.

The night's sky lit up with dazzling golden streams of dreaming sand. Jack's deep blue eyes lit with the glowing reflection of Sandman's handy work. He longed to know what dreaming was like. Sleep was not an essential part of his existence as it was to mortals, but that didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't every so often.

The plump silhouette of the Guardian flew above, fingers busy weaving and conducting their magic. Jack had always admired the work of Sandy. Many times he found himself watching the ever changing facial expressions of dreaming children. Not that he made a frequent habit of it, but he had a curious nature. The way their faces relaxed in surrender to dreamworlds always made Jack jealous that he never experienced the same.

He once asked Sandy if there was something wrong with him, something that may have caused the reasoning behind his lack of dreams. The golden Guardian merely smiled and shook his head, confusing symbols of a time watch and a dripping heart shimmered above his wryly hair. Whatever that was supposed to mean...

Jack's eyes unfocused and his mind wandered as the wind lifted him away, caressing the bareness of his feet and calves like a lover. His brown cloak rippled in the brisk breeze that trailed him wherever he went. Without a care for his destination, he allowed himself to be carried across the sea and above mountain tops. Hours, or perhaps days had passed. He wasn't counting.


	6. A Queen's Secret Desire

With Prince Hans heavily guarded and imprisoned upon a ship bound for his home Kingdom, and Anna thawed, happy, safe, and back to her normal antics, Elsa was finally able to relax; if only for a short time before she had to resume her responsibilities as Queen. While she was truly happy that everything in Arendelle had gone back to its original state, she herself felt forever altered. In truth, she had barely began to understand the extent of her powers. They were not by any means under control. Years of concealing her abilities had left her inexperienced and if she were honest with herself, she still felt to be a great danger to those around her. 

Elsa kicked off her shoes as she walked to her dressing room in search of a night gown. The flimsy cool fabric of her ice dress slid to the floor, pooling around her feet in a heap of icy enchantment. Her bare skin glowed with opalescence in the reflection of her floor length mirror. Her fingers tugged at her loose braid, allowing her pale blonde hair to fall in waves of soft tendrils down her back. She pulled a silky grey chemise from a hanger and slid it over her head. 

Elsa had never been so relieved to crawl into the sanctuary of her bed. Her head sank into the comfort of a goose down pillow. Her hands spanned the expanse of satin bed sheets, eyes closed in momentary bliss.

"What the..?" Her foot bumped into a solid object at the edge of her bed. Hands diving underneath the heavy blankets, Elsa retrieved the mysterious object, pleasantly surprised by what she found. The cover was slightly worn from years of inhabiting her bed, but it still held it's beauty. 

She opened the book of fairytales, the memory of her late mother reading it to her when she was just a girl coming to mind. Elsa felt the the warm intrusion of tears threatening to spill. Her hand wiped forcefully at her eyes; pulling herself together. The book's spine creaked in protest as she opened it, fingers skimming through the beloved pages of childhood dreams. Her slender fingers stroked the familiar face of the boy she dreamed about as an adolescent. Eyes as fathomless as an ocean of stars... 

In her youth, Elsa had been captivated by those very eyes. She almost felt ridiculous for fantasizing about him as a little girl. After all, he was a fairytale and only a mere drawing in her favorite childhood book. Jack Frost was a story told to children as a fantastical reason for the changing of season. There was no such thing as a Winter Spirit and magic of that sort. 

"Oh, Jack....if only you were real." She sighed. Staring at the handsome painted face, her fingers began to tingle with a craving for creativity, an urge she hadn't indulged in for some time. Book balanced in her left hand, with her right flourishing in the air, an ice sculpture of her beloved idol began to take form in the middle of her room. Elsa climbed out of the confinement of her blankets and walked over to her creation, fingers trailing along the smoothness of the ice. 

She wondered if she willed hard enough, whether he would come to life just as Olaf and Marshmellow had. Her eyes searched the glassy reflection of the sculpture's, her arms inched around the cool slender waist, her body now embracing her inanimate creation. She cared very little that she must have looked ridiculous. It wasn't the first time she created a companion to stave off the loneliness.

Her head rested upon the sculpture's chest, imagining that it had a heartbeat. Deep within the solid ice, a blue glow radiated in the place of a heart. "You'll always be real to me, Jack."

A strong gust of bitter wind blasted through her bedroom windows, causing them to shatter into a million shimmering shards. Elsa, in dismay, flung herself against her bed in frightened confusion. The room swirled with snow and winter winds, picking up her loosened hair and whipping it about her face. This was not her doing.

*****

Elsa froze, her eyes trained upon the back of the intruder who had burst through her bedroom window with the wind. Her heart thudded in her chest, fear rising and taking hold. Her hands turned a deep blue, ready to strike should the need arise. 

"What the hell?" The man gasped. He still had not turned around. He walked, barefoot, over to the window. "Fuck!" He lifted his foot, a shard of glass protruding from the soft pad, as a glimmer of red dripped from the wound. "Seriously... What the hell?"

Unsure if she should speak or move, Elsa stayed where she was, watching the stranger for any sudden movements. Courage, Elsa, she told herself. You're the one he should be afraid of.

"Who are you?" Her voice wavered, but her stance was threatening and confident.

The stranger whipped around, forgetting the pain in his foot. His face, with an expression of disbelief played upon it, almost seemed familiar. Elsa's fingers flared and frosted a blackish blue in reflex as the stranger lifted into air and floated towards her.

"You can see me?" His voice was deep and sturdy, but glazed with an undertone of vulnerability.

Elsa stared down the starry blue eyes of the stranger hovering a mere two feet from her bed. "Don't come any closer! I demand you tell me who you are!" Her voice was icy and cold, no longer holding evidence of her frazzled nerves.

Sheets of ice began to coat the walls of her room, the climate becoming similar to that of a shaken snow globe. The stranger never seemed to notice, his gaze of disbelief was still transfixed upon her face.

"My name is Jack. Jack Frost."

*****


	7. Where The Wind Blows

He was somewhere over Scandinavia when he first felt it. A warmth spreading throughout his body, reaching all the way to the tips of his toes. He froze mid flight, clutching his staff tightly in his right hand. Jack silenced his thoughts, waiting for the sensation to reoccur; surely he had to have imagined it? After all, though the cold never bothered him, it was his constant state of being. During summer's climax, the heat never seemed to penetrate the cold of his flesh. Could you even call it flesh? He was never able to touch a mortal, let alone be seen by one. Many times he should have suffered injury from his carelessness and dangerous stunts, but whether it was due to his immortality or perhaps him possibly being a ghost, he was never hurt. While the commodity seemed to leave much to desire, to him it was a constant reminder that his existence was not in his control. 

Several minutes had passed and nothing changed. Convincing himself that it was all in his head, Jack closed his eyes and called on the wind to carry him on. His body sailed with the current, as if he were made of only air. Arms crossed behind his head, he hummed a tune he had picked up at a monastery in Mongolia. 

"It's time." The wind breathed.

Jack's humming halted, his heart thudding hard in his chest as he once again paused. There was no mistaking that for his imagination. His eyes cast to the moon, listening in desperation for another word.

"It's time, Jokul."

"Time for w-," a heat surged beneath his ribcage and billowed throughout his extremities. Jack clutched painfully at his chest, crying out into the dark and silent night. A blast of wind captured him, taking him as it's prisoner, spinning his body out of control. He fought against it, willing himself to break free, but there was no controlling the wind. Not even his staff could help him now. He was at the mercy of whatever the hell was happening.

*****

He heard the glass shatter before he felt himself go through it; body tumbling and slamming against the floor before finally coming to a stop. His head spun uncontrollably for what seemed like hours. Slowly rising from the floor and on to his feet, he dusted off his breeches and cloak. "What the hell?" He walked towards the ruined window in complete dismay. A sharp stab in his bare foot stole his attention with an even greater surprise. "Fuck!"

He bent over, grasping at his injured foot, amazed to see the shard of glass protruding from his pale skin. A swell of blood formed at the wound site when he pulled away the foreign object. "Seriously...what the hell?" 

"Who are you?" A nervous voice asked from behind him. Jack's head snapped around, eyes darting over to the bed where a young woman crouched defensively. Her gaze trained on him with such a ferocity there was almost no denying that she could see him.

His body lifted into the air and floated towards her. "You can see me?" Jack's eyes roved over the woman's face, searching for confirmation of what he hoped was true. He drew closer to the bed, now aware that woman was sparingly clothed in just her thin shift.

"Don't come any closer! I demand you tell me who you are!" Her voice was firm and it took him by surprise. She seemed so delicate for someone with such spirit.

"My name is Jack. Jack Frost." He exalted. His fingers tingled with want. He wanted so much to reach out to her, to feel the way her skin felt against his. He yearned for physical contact with another person; he had for over two hundred years.

The woman's eyes widened, mouth agape with incredulity and sheer confusion. "Excuse me? Wh-what did you just say?"

Jack's gaze left her face and for the first time noticed her hands. Their blue black shade sent a shiver up his spine; he had only seen that once before. The room, once swirling with sleet and a biting wind stilled to a suspended calm. Jack's eyes lit up in astounded wonder. Curiosity pulled him closer to her, inches from her face, his hand reaching out to touch her; his heart paused, anticipating disappointment.

"I said my name is Jack."

******


	8. The Mind Will Play

His obtrusive hand reached out, much too close for her liking. Elsa's right hand struck out, grasping his wrist and stilling him before his fingers could brush her skin. His starry blue gaze locked with hers, a smile spreading across his face. 

"Do not presume to be so bold with me sir, I am not as helpless as I may appear." Her tone was venomous.

Jack glanced down at his imprisoned wrist, smiling even wider at the sight of his hand frosting over and turning a corpse-like shade of grey blue. A chuckle erupted from his chest. Goddamn, where had she been hiding all this time?

"I would never presume so, and I would like to say that you have me at a disadvantage Miss, but I'm afraid that would be a blatant lie." Releasing his staff to float beside him midair, Jack wrapped his free hand around the one that bound his right. 

Elsa let out a gasp at the sight of their conjoined hands freezing over into what appeared to be pure ice. Logic told her she was dreaming, but his touch and the pull in her chest told her this was real. "How is this even possible?"

Jack released her hand, slipping his right free as her hold on him slackened. He slowly lowered himself onto her bed, mindful of her nervousness. Now that he had found her, the last thing he wanted to do was push her away. The doors to her room reverberated with heavy knocks, a palace guard's voice of concern questioning behind them, " My queen, we heard a crash! Is everything alright?"

"Queen?" He quietly exclaimed in disbelief.

Elsa's hand clapped over Jack's mouth," Just a moment!" She looked to him then, trying to figure out what to tell the guards. 'Stay here and be quiet." She crawled out of the bed with as much grace and modesty as could be mustered in what little she wore. 

Jack's lower abdomen tightened at the sight of her curvy silhouette, her chemise doing very little to shield what was underneath. His gaze was transfixed on her as she silently strode to the dressing room; watching her disappear into the room and reappear moments later with an appropriately modest robe and slippers.

"Queen Elsa?" The guard's voice sounded extremely worried at this point.

"I said just a moment." She cracked the door far enough just so they could see she was safe and whole. "Everything is fine. I was practicing and let myself get carried away. It's nothing that I can't handle for now. Thank you for your concern." 

Jack watched her smooth the tension outside her bedroom door. Where was he exactly? By the looks of the decor and structure of the room, not to mention the Queen's lilt, he guessed Norway; but he couldn't be too sure. Rising from her soft bed, he walked around her room, picking up random trinkets and artifacts that decorated the large space. He froze when he came face to face with the ice sculpture he had noticed earlier, but paid little attention to. The artistry was flawless. 

Jack Frost's fingers glided along the perfectly smooth surface of the statue. "This....who is this?" He was aware that she was standing behind him, silently watching.

"It's you. Or at least what I imagined you to look like." She said with a shrug, her arms were crossed, mouth set with apprehension.

Jack circled her creation, hand cradling his chin. "It's good... Damn close too, but I'm afraid he's not handsome enough." He looked over at her with a playful grin, noting the way her cheeks flushed pink.

"So it's Elsa, is it? Elsa.....I like the way that sounds." She watched as he lifted into the air and floated, suspended so that she had to look up at him. Jack reached out and gently twirled a piece of her blonde hair between his fingers. What was with all the touching, she wondered. Stepping back so that her hair was free she turned her attention to the damaged window. 

Raising her hands in front of her, blue white swirls of magicked ice and snow danced from her outstretched palms. He watched in awe as she reconstructed the large window, adding touches of her personality in the fine details. Elsa, satisfied with her mending, slowly lowered her hands to her side, not turning around to look at him. 

"Why?" Her voice was somber. Elsa looked down at her hands. "Why now after all this time, Jack?" 

Jack Frost's forehead wrinkled in thought. That was the question eating away at him from the moment the wind carried him through her window. "I don't know. I'm not even entirely sure how I got here." He floated around her until they were face to face, truly looking at her for the first time. "You're the first person to feel me, let alone see me; I don't have any more of an explanation than you do." 

Her brow line furrowed, a vertical wrinkle forming between them, her bottom lip sucked in as she bit down. Could she have somehow created him? Was he just some phantom of her mind or a whimsical creation like Olaf? Elsa didn't think she was that powerful, but then again, there was very little she understood about her abilities. 

"I thought you were a Winter Spirit?" She finally spoke.

"I am..." He began, curious as to where this was going.

"Okay, so then explain to me why you are bleeding on my floor. From what I understood about you, you're immortal or just a spirit...how is that even possible?" Her finger pointed at the wound on Jack's foot.

He lifted his foot to take a closer look at it. The wound was very minuscule, but it still oozed fat round ruby droplets. "Yeah... I have no idea as to how that is happening either." He smiled up at her, his frosty white hair obscuring his eyes.

He was much more attractive than the paintings in her book, and he seemed older than the young adolescent that was always depicted. "How old are you, Jack?" 

"That's an excellent question! Do you want an approximate or do you want an estimation? Because if I'm honest, I don't feel as old as I am." He summoned his staff and twirled it between his hands expertly. 

"You don't look a day under or over twenty, but that's just my observation. I know that you're much older than that, according to myth." She answered matter-of-fact. 

"Thank you for the compliment, and you are correct, give or take I'm around two hundred and sixty." He smiled, spinning his staff around like the Zen Buddhists he had observed in China. 

Elsa shook her head in confusion. That couldn't possibly be right? "Are you sure? According to Norse Mythology you should be much much older than that." 

"Really? I was at one point keeping track, but I'm pretty certain that it's only been a little over two hundred years since I was created by the moon." He set his attention to blowing the pieces of glass away from his vulnerable feet before he lowered them to the floor.

Elsa walked over to her bed and retrieved her fairytale book, feeling the pull of sleep behind her eyelids. " I know this is just a simple children's book, I do have other books in the palace library regarding your origins, but in this one, it mentions nothing about the moon." Her index finger followed along the words on the pages, landing on the sentence she was searching for. At this point Jack was leaning over her shoulder, curious of the words he couldn't decipher on the page.

"Jack, this book, and all of the other ones in our library concerning my ancestors' beliefs, have nothing to say of the moon creating you. Some of them say that you are a descendant of the god Fornjot, meaning moon of Saturn. His son, Kari, the god of wind, is said to have a son named Jokul Frosti. Popularly known as Jack Frost. However, there's many different theories and stories, all of which are incredibly confusing and too exhausting to get into this late. " Elsa closed the book and turned around to look at him.

His expression was just as confused as hers. How was any of this possible, he wondered. Could he have been mistaken for all these years? Perhaps this was the reason the "man on the moon" never spoke to him. Had he been asking the wrong questions? Was he talking to the wrong person? His head started to spin, thoughts and questions slamming and bruising themselves against one another; the room's atmosphere began to shift with his mood. "I don't understand any of this..." 

Elsa reached out and took his hand into hers; the gesture made her slightly uncomfortable. Years of forced solitude and isolation made any physical contact unnerving. Her sleepy gaze locked with his startled eyes. "Jack, let it go. It's much too late to piece all of this together, not mention figuring out how you even exist; which I am desperately hoping you do. I'd hate to wake and realize that all of this has just been my mind playing tricks on me." She gave his hand a squeeze, noting the warmth spreading into her hand and up her arm.

Jack's demeanor relaxed as the warmth of her hand brought him back from the confinement of his mind. It dawned on him then that he would have to refrain from doing that so often. A gentle smile pulled at the corners of his mouth at the way her face softened, the imminence of sleep presenting itself.

"Sleep. I'll be here when you wake." He turned to take up residence in a chair nearby the window. Elsa's hand tightened on his, causing his eyes to cast down at her restraining hold.

"Will you, Jack?" Her voice held a note of distrust.

His chest tightened at the way she looked at him. It was almost as if she would shatter into a million pieces if he told her no. What had she gone through, that would warrant such an expectancy in disappointment? Jack Frost squared his shoulders and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I promise." He affirmed, somersaulting into a chair, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Don't make promises you can't keep." She said moments later, closing her eyes.


	9. Dark Frosti

******

"You disappoint me, Jokul." Her tone was emotionless. His eyes followed the movement of her hand as it stroked the shinning white of her polar bear's fur. The Frost Giants at her side stared menacingly back at him. There was no doubt that his father had sent them. 

"I will not allow your willful arrogance and cruelty to go unpunished."

Jokul smirked, his arms folding across his broad chest. His deep blue eyes alit with a malignant gold, daring her to try, self confidence radiating and filling the grand room with a bitter chill that went bone deep. The woman's head snapped up, eyes like daggers eager for the kill. "You will pay for your crimes!" A gust of arctic wind bit and clawed at his face and body, his fine clothes rippling viciously at the goddess' onslaught. Her tactics did little to sway his petulance.

"Skadi, Oh wise huntress! You must have known that not even you could tame me....cousin." He jeered, a cruel smile spanned his face. His bare feet skimmed along the floor, gliding along the stone surface, until he was kneeling at her feet; his arrogant expression riling her dissolving patience.

She was on him with one languid blink of his eyes. The goddess' iron-like fist grasped Jokul by the throat, in the other hand a dagger dripping with black ichor. Her hair seemed aflame and her eyes wild with such ferocity, the ground heaved and quaked underneath his knees; even the Frost Giants shifted uneasily. 

"When did the likes of mortals take residence in your heart? Or is it my father who protests my behavior? He's convinced you to bring my crimes to justice, has he?" Jokul's intrepid tone further fueled her wintry rage. "Now that you are Odin's wife, you believe to have power and authority over me?" He spat.

"I care not for any mortal, but they are of nature! Your father detests what you have become. I care for the laws of gods and the laws of the earth. You have broken them. There will be balance and justice must be served. Your wickedness and games have come to their end, Frosti. Your reign of terror will cease tonight!" She pressed the blade to his immortal heart.

Fear was absent. It had long abandoned him with Mioll's death. An insidious cold wrapped itself around his immortal heart like a lover that day. Cruelty and darkness had consumed him and only death would end his hellbent rampage. Jokul Frosti pressed his body closer to the blade, the searing pain of the ichor and metal brought a smile to his lips.

"Kill me, then. Release me from this prison of immortal flesh!" He growled. Her green eyes flashed, the urge to kill dancing in the yellow specks of her irises. She drew near to his ear, his raven black hair tickling her lips.

"You will find no mercy or relief from your pain here, Jokul; only a deserved lesson."

His rage furrowed across the ageless skin of his face. His black blue hands gripped her forearms, digging, and piercing her god flesh. A fierce growl erupted from her pet, it's teeth gnashing and snarling at it's master's defense. Skadi paid no notice of such pains. Her dagger buried deep into his chest, twisting as she cursed him to a mortal life."Jeg forbanner dere, Jokul Frosti. Jeg tar din udødelighet og gi deg død!"

*****

Jack Frost awoke with a start. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as he touched the cold skin over the pounding muscle, a sting dissolving with the memory of a dream. 

It felt so real. The darkness seemed to twist and rot within him as he saw through eyes much like his own. Unable to speak or control his dream body, Jack watched as the scene unfolded, ever so aware of the feeling that he had been there before. That was impossible of course; the time was wrong. Then again he couldn't shake the curiosity of the man's name in the dream. Jokul. He had heard that name before.

It was a name whispered on the wind before an unknown force sent him tumbling through the window belonging to a queen. The brightness of the sun dimly sparkled through the ice window, casting rainbow spots onto the sleeping form of the woman he met hours before. Jack silently rose from the chair he had occupied during the night and walked over to the bedside. 

He watched the slow rise and fall of her chest as she slept; her face relaxed in peaceful reverie. Elsa's hair fanned across the charcoal dyed linens of her bed. His fingers slid gently over the silky tendrils, the sensitive nerves tingled with satisfaction at the contact. He resisted the urge to groan at the way it felt to simply touch her. His hand lingered much longer than it should have, trailing lightly along the pale smoothness of her collarbone. He smiled at the way she shivered from his tickling touch in her sleep.

Jack felt his chest tighten and burn at the simplistic act of her full lips pursing together and then relaxing. The sight of her like this conjured feelings of familiarity. He felt the magnetic pull of her mouth tugging at his conservative resolve. Jack had never spent much time in the presence of such vulnerability and he had enough respect to allow private things between mortals to go on without him needing to play audience. This. This he couldn't resist. 

All sense of reserve and control dashed to the wind as he settled his mouth on hers. Be that she was still a stranger mattered very little. He convinced himself it was for curiosity's sake. Images and flashes of a silver haired woman with ice blue eyes danced through his mind as his mouth melded against Elsa's. Flashes of bared flesh entwined with that of another's, cries of passion filling his ears as felt his body being forcefully pushed away.

"Just what the hell do you think you are doing?" Elsa demanded, sleep frazzled hair hanging past an exposed breast in a tangle of blonde. Clearly, the thin chemise wasn't properly designed, seeing as one of the straps had slipped down her arm; the silky fabric drooped below the virgin pink of a nipple. Jack felt a rush of heat billow between his legs as his eyes took in her indecency. 

Noticing where his gaze was lingering and the change of expression, Elsa, full of shocked embarrassment pulled the blankets up to cover herself. Her face turned an angry shade of red.

"Do you mind, sir, telling me the reasoning of your molesting me as I slept?"

Regaining composure Jack floated into the air, distancing himself from her should she feel the desire to shoot spikes of ice in his direction. Her looks clearly, could crucify. He held his hands up in surrender,"Wait....No one was molesting anyone! Maybe if you wore something a little more.... I don't know, conservative to bed; you're little exposure wouldn't have happened." His cheeks flushed magenta as the image of her naked flesh came back to mind. What was this possessive and animalistic urge he felt pooling inside? Two hundred years and not once had he such feelings.

Elsa stood up from the bed, wrapping the blankets about her as if it would make him forget the curve of her body. "That doesn't explain why I awoke to you kissing me!"

Jack's hand reached up to the softness of his hairline at the base of his skull, scratching in nervousness. He coughed and cleared his throat. He threw her a mischievous grin with a simple shrug of his shoulders.

"Two hundred years, give or take of genuine curiosity."


	10. To The Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Author's Notes: I know it's short, but my reasoning is sound. I had started this chapter days ago and somehow the five pages I had finished, mysteriously deleted. Yes, I was livid. Yes, I procrastinated. However, I do believe this came out better than the original. If you're interested in the dress I based Jack's creation on, please see the comments below.)

Jack catapulted through the air as daggers of ice shot in his direction, laughter rumbling in chest. The woman had spirit and he admired her for that. With experienced ease he was able to dodge her desperate efforts to maim him. With one bold swoop he wrapped his arm around her waist, bursting with laughter as she clawed at him in startled panic. Her arms squeezed tightly around his ribcage; fingers latched themselves to the fabric of his shirt, pinching the smooth flesh beneath.

"Bloody fucking hell, Jack! Put me down!" Elsa's eyes were wide with fear and her expression furious. Jack's left arm pressed her close as they sailed through the air of her large room. Staff in hand, Jack pointed it towards the window, the ice parted in obedience, making way for their exit.

"Relax, your majesty. I won't let you fall." He breathed through her soft hair.

A chill tingled it's way down her spine and the tiny hairs on her neck stood on end. The blanket that had been wrapped around her slid to the floor in a heap of satin. Whatever color that remained in her face completely drained. She couldn't possibly be seen thus dressed. The warm morning breeze stirred in her hair as Jack carried her to the window ledge. Her hands tightened in his linen shirt.

"Wait! I couldn't possibly go out like this." Her ice blue eyes pleaded with his, hoping that he would abandon whatever intentions he had. Jack looked down at her nightgown, deciding that she was quite right. 

"You do make a valid point." He cocked his head to the side, eyes surveying her body. Elsa felt exposed and vulnerable; she tried her best to ignore the way his unapologetic gaze made her stomach flutter wildly. She watched as Jack brought his staff to the fabric of her chemise. Sliding it along her abdomen in circular motions. Deep icy blues sparkled and inched their way up her body, enveloping her like a glove. Chiffon-like ice wrapped around her arms forming an iridescent lilac sleeves. Branches of frost cascaded down the ice dress that hugged and altered her nightgown, twisting and spreading like the faint blue veins beneath her skin. The neckline plunged to her navel, glittering with diamonds of ice that wove in swirls across her breasts. 

Jack smiled in confidence at his craftsmanship. "Is this better?" He asked coyly. Jack would never consider himself an expert on women's fashion, but two hundred of observing changing trends did give one a general idea of what was "in". 

Elsa stared down at the dress, slightly perturbed by the excessive accentuating of her curves, not to mention the inappropriate neckline.

"It's impractical." Her words were blunt and borderline callous.

"Stop your complaining... Besides, I've already seen you in less." Before she could further protest, Jack vaulted them through the window an into the warm open air.

With a shriek, Elsa buried her face into his neck as they soared through the air, the early morning rays warming their hair; never of course, warm enough to penetrate their skin. "As soon as I'm back on solid ground, I'm going to kill you!"

His broad chest shook with mirth at her threat. Such spirit! The wind rushed through her hair, tangling and wrapping itself around her face as they barrel-rolled through the clouds. Jack, unfazed, watched her in selfish amusement as she tried to clear her obstructed view. Releasing his staff to fly alongside, Jack gently freed the stubborn strands from her heart shaped face. Her expression held no signs of pleasure in the experience. Instead it looked rather distressed, her coloring a slight shade of green.

"Are you unwell?" He halted midair, his hand pressing a cooling relief to her forehead. If looks could kill, he was a deadman. 

"Am I unwell? Am I unwell? Let me think about that... Hmm, I don't know! It's not an everyday occurrence that a mythological being kidnaps me and takes me flying. So yes, Jack, I'm quite unwell." Her gaze was cold. This only humored him.

"Would it please your Majesty, to be back on solid ground?" He teased. Jack rather enjoyed riling her.

"You're being disingenuous." She seemed irritated.

"I wouldn't dream of it." His lips stretched into a boyish grin. "Come, your Majesty. I'll return you to your Kingdom before anyone realizes you were 'kidnapped'."

"You really don't have to address me that way. I prefer family and close friends call me by first name." She tried her best to not let the nausea bother her, but it was easier said than done. Flying was not her cup of tea.

Jack gave her a squeeze,"So we're friends now?" He caught the way her eyes narrowed at him. They were going to be great friends.

"I'm just taunting you. If you prefer I call you Elsa, then I will."

The way he said her name sounded like a reverent prayer. Her cheeks flushed, giving away her feelings. She was never good at concealing them. 

*****

Elsa was relieved to feel solid ground beneath her bare feet. She turned to face Jack, unsure if she should invite him to breakfast or command him to stay put. She had a feeling that he had no respect for authority and wouldn't take well to being told what to do. 

"Are you hungry? Breakfast will be served fairly soon. While I usually take it in my room, today I'd like to see my sister this morning before duty demands my attention. So you're more than welcome to join me or stay here, if you don't have anything of great importance to occupy you."

"I'm free at the moment. No serious weather changes in my plans today. As for being hungry, I'm never. However, I can eat and do on occasion, I just don't really need to. Comes with the occupation." He leaned against his staff, arms resting on the "moon" shape.

Elsa, trying to determine if it was smart to bring him along, walked around him; eyeing his garments. They weren't exactly horrible, but they were not by any means fit for presentation. She had the worrying feeling that others would mistake him for a beggar. "Jack....please don't take this the wrong way but, you should change your clothes. I don't want any of the staff or my advisors believing you to be a street beggar or criminal." She tried her best to sound nonjudgmental.

"Criminal? I happen to like my choice of clothes. They're not stiff and restrictive like the fashion gentleman these days insist on wearing." He looked down at his dark brown breeches and linen shirt, and then back at Elsa; her expression sincere but hesitant. Maybe that was why men subjected themselves to the torture; for a woman. With a surrendering shrug he stretched his arms wide and tilted his chin up, closing his eyes. "Have your way with me then"


	11. Introductions

(I'm also quite pleased with myself for figuring out how to italicize words via my iPhone....however, when I transfer this onto other writing sites, it doesn't show... I hope it doesn't totally confuse readers.I know, I completely suck at being tech savy. I blame it on getting old)

******

"Well? How do I look?" He slowly spun, the tails of his navy blue frock coat billowing with the movement. Jack reached up to the high collar and began tugging annoyingly at the bow tie. He felt constricted and on the verge of suffocation. Men actually subjected themselves to this kind of discomfort voluntarily? Seeing the potential of her fine work compromised, Elsa swatted his hands away and set herself to loosening the collar for him.

"Is that better?" She let her hands slide down the pale blue of his embroidered waistcoat, smoothing out any wrinkles.

"Yes, but you never answered my question." His eyes flashed at her, mouth curling into an arrogant grin.

Elsa stood back and took in his appearance. Jack resembled exactly that of a proper gentleman clad in grey trousers, a navy blue jacket, and handsomely paired with a pale blue waistcoat. The silver of his hair brought out the subtle undertones of the waistcoat and brightened the pale flecks of his eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would have mistaken him for a royal. An absurdly attractive royal, she thought.

"It suits you.' She answered finally. 'It compliments your eyes." 

Jack's expression turned smug as he modeled the regal garb; his walk ostentatious when he approach Elsa's floor length mirror. He fidgeted with his silver hair, turning his head side to side in deep concentration. "I need a mustache."

The sound of Elsa's light laughter distracted him from his vain attempts. It was such a lovely sound. Jack smiled back at her in the mirror as she walked up behind him.

"No mustache." She chuckled.

"You don't think it would make me look more distinguished?" He asked curiously as he stroked the bare skin of his upper lip. Mustaches were most certainly masculine, he thought to himself. He turned around, looking down at her; the top of her head stopping just below his nose. Her height was petite like an adolescent girl, but the curves of her body shouted "woman" in boisterous defense.

"You look... Nice." Her voice soft as she embellished the the silver ice buttons of his waistcoat with a snowflake. 

"Just nice?" Her eyes rose to his, fingers pausing in their ministrations. Jack looked deep into hers for a hint of what lay behind them. The wall she built around herself seemed so akin to his. Maybe, just maybe she would someday let a fellow comrade in. Someday.

A knock at her door startled them from their moment of silent questions. Elsa cleared her throat, excusing herself to see to it. Jack turned round to take a last glance at himself. The clothes are not my style, but I look damn good in them.

*****

"Let me initiate introductions. Anna will be buzzing with overwhelming curiosity the moment she sees you, so it's best if you let me do the explaining." Elsa's hands twisted and fidgeted as they walked along the opulent halls of the castles. 

Jack, still actively listening, let his eyes rove across his surroundings. Several artifacts and paintings caught his attention as they strode by, making a mental reminder to come back to them later, he would take a closer look. The palace exuded grandeur with every turn and corner. There was a distinct welcoming sensation inside the stone walls that settled any unease. The two descended the burgundy velvet grand staircase to the lower level of the palace; his hands sliding along the smooth wood of the bannister. Jack's eyes were drawn to the vaulted ceilings and particularly to the exposed wood beams that held an uncanny Viking influence. 

"Where am I exactly?" He asked, turning to Elsa as they continued down the halls to their destination.

"Arendelle.... Why?" She gave him a curious look. Where did he think he was?

"Ah... Norway. I knew I had been flying over Scandinavia when I was pulled by the wind, but I wasn't entirely sure where I landed." He gave her a smile, his gaze drawing to the paintings that decorated the long hall. They walked for what seemed like a solid ten minutes before reaching the dining hall, passing several servants and guards who merely bowed in respect.

"Have you been listening?" Jack's head snapped towards her, a little confused. No.

"Yes?" He lied.

Elsa's gloved hand held up in command, indicating to her servants she wasn't ready for her presence to be announced. Jack looked curiously at the gloves she had inconspicuously donned. What the hell were those for? "I'm not sure how they will react to you, Jack. It's imperative that you allow me to smooth over introductions. Already, my people have a perceived notion about me and my powers. I don't want them in a panic because there's two of us. Please tell me that you understand?" Her voice held a tone of uncertainty.

Jack nodded his head. "That, I completely understand, but what I fail to grasp is that..." His gaze directed at her folded hands. "Gloves? Really? Are you cold, Elsa?" He taunted, his eyebrows shifting in skepticism.

She sighed in embarrassment. I must look ridiculous. Deep down she knew the gloves didn't stop her powers, not even a little. It was more of a psychological thing. They reminded her to control and cover her emotions; to reign in the building stress. How do I explain something like that to him without sounding mad? He could understand, couldn't he? Was it all that different for him?

"They help me focus." Seeing that that was not a sufficient answer to his question she went on," I know it doesn't stop my powers, but it reminds me to stay in control of my feelings... I don't expect you to entirely understand. I've not had a lot of practice, and devastating accidents have been made. I'm still a danger to those around me." I could never forgive myself if I hurt anyone again.

Jack slowly inhaled and exhaled, his breath refreshingly cool against her skin. He could see the battle going inside her. Two hundred or so years had given him time to hone his skills. Granted, there were a few mistakes made along the way, but in time he had become confident in his control. He reached down and took her hands into his; she tried to pull away. It was just a compulsive reaction, Jack convinced himself. His grasp on her hands tightened slightly, but not enough to cause pain. One by one he pulled the fabric free from her slender fingers until he had both gloves.

"As long as I'm here, you won't need these." You don't have to be afraid.

*****

"Come again?" Kristoff's forehead wrinkled in confusion. His eyes repeatedly shifted from Elsa back to Jack, trying to comprehend what was just explained. Anna patted and squeezed his hand affectionately, as she sipped on her hot chocolate. 

"I think it's wonderful!" The redhead said cheerfully, setting down the china. 

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised by anything at this point. Talking snowmen, trolls, a queen with ice powers, and now Jack Frost. Hell, Loch Ness could swim up to me in the fjord and I wouldn't think anything of it." Kristoff took a large bite of his omelette and chewed like a barbarian.

Did he just fucking say what I think he did? Jack's interest was perked by the commonly dressed man seated across from him. "Did I hear you correctly? You did say talking snowmen?"

Elsa's sister cleared her throat, "You heard him correctly. Elsa has this crazy talent of not only freezing everything and making snow, but she can also make snow come to life. It's pretty neat to witness....you're sure you're not just one of her creations, right?" Her eyes narrowed at him, judging whether or not there was a possibility.

"Anna-" Elsa started, but Jack's hand slid over hers, causing her eyes to lock with his in question. He gave her hand a quick squeeze returning his atop the table. 

"I can assure you that I'm not." His blue eyes focused on Anna's cup of hot cocoa, a thin layer of frost enveloped the porcelain, and the contents froze solid. She let out a squeal of delight.

"Olaf certainly cannot do that!" She grabbed the cup and held it out for Kristoff to see.

Elsa watched the man next to her with focused eyes. For years she had longed for a companion to share in the joys and woes of her abilities. Anna was always supportive and trusting, never once letting Elsa feel judged by her unique differences, but in that sisterly companionship, Elsa still felt isolated. 

It was only a matter of time before Anna would marry Kristoff and wish to live out her life, and Elsa knew better than to expect that they would stay. If the responsibility of being queen held no claim on her, she would live out her days in the comfort of her ice castle, away from the pressure and burden of always being careful. Her heart gave a violent lurch at the sight of her sister raising Kristoff's hand to her mouth, planting a gentle kiss in his palm. Anna was leaving her, and this time, it was for good. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jack's hushed voice interrupted her train of somber thoughts. She managed a half smile for him, shaking off the ache that filled her chest. "Nothing." Everything, she thought.

Jack wouldn't pry just yet. Not now. Certainly not with others around; but unlike them he wasn't ignorant to the shift in her mood. The moment the temperature dipped a degree his eyes were on her. The way her hand gripped her wine glass, turning the contents to an icy slush, told the truth she refused to admit. I know that darkness, too.

*****

"I'm very interested in the books you mentioned last night." He walked slowly beside her, watching the way her head was bowed in concentration. 

Her pale blonde head popped up, a twinkle in her eyes at the mentioning of books. In her youth, Elsa had lived out her solitude in the confines of a few rooms in the large palace; never once close enough to have contact with her sister. The library had become a refuge and the books were doors to other worlds. She would spend day after day filling her mind with stories of kings, Viking warriors, and Joan of Arc. The library was where her studies and tutoring had taken place, and it was still a sanctuary of peace when she needed it.

"It's just to the left."

Jack watched as she slid her hand along the salmon coloured walls, fingers trailing sparks of blue and brilliant white. The doors to the library were a burnt tangerine that offset the gold plated door handle. Elsa's hands wrapped around both handles and pushed the doors open with exaggerated effort. 

The room itself was impressive, but the sheer number of books alone made Jack's jaw slack in unexpected wonder. He had seen many libraries in his long years of wandering the earth, but few were as resplendent as this one.

"This is my favorite room." Her voice was full affection. "I spend most of my time in here, well, that is when I'm not busy with other important matters." She walked alongside the ceiling high shelves, fingering the hard spines.

"I like the quiet....it's peaceful." It's a comfort.

Elsa's eyes looked to Jack then, his arms were folded across his chest as he leaned against the bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, his gaze was following her movements like a predator. The rays of the sun from a nearby window poured in, filtering through his silver hair and setting it aglow. Elsa had never liked being around others, solitude had become her sanctuary, but Jack's presence brought a sense of calm. You don't even know him, she told herself.

"What do you think about when you're alone?" His voice was gentle in it's prodding.

Her eyes narrowed, he was much too bold. Why does he want to know? Elsa's hands fidgeted nervously as her gut clenched in discomfort. She redirected her eyes at the books to her left, busying herself with reading their titles. She felt his eyes on her and it made her shift uneasily.

"You don't need to hide from me, Elsa." His breath was chilly against her neck, the sensation pleasantly welcome. Jack's silhouette loomed over her, casting shadows on the books she took to mentally naming.

"I'm not hiding, Jack." Her voice was low and confident in its denial.

He lifted into the air and settled himself cross-legged atop the book shelves. Elsa tilted her head to glare at him disapprovingly. He let out a chastising "tsk tsk".

"You may have everyone else fooled, your Majesty, but not me." He rested his chin on his knuckles and stared down at her humorously.

Flustered by his overwhelming arrogance, Elsa began to pace. Who does he think he is? I don't have to answer a question as personal as that! What a pretentious ass.... We only met last night and now he believes himself to know me. "Don't presume to know anything about me, Jack."

He expected that reaction from her. She never failed to impress him. Sliding down from his perch, Jack came up from behind and grabbed her by the forearm, spinning her around to face him. She met him with a dangerous glare. "Why are you being so defensive, Elsa? Tell me what's eating you alive. There's no use in pretending with me. I may have not been seen by anyone until you, but I do know how to read people. I'd like to think I've had plenty of time to practice."

She tried pulling away, but his grip was firm and unrelenting. Fucking asshole. "You barely know me. You have no idea what I've done. I can't control myself. I'm walking on eggshells, praying that I don't kill my own sister by accident!" The temperature dropped significantly. The library swirled with a bitter chill that billowed Elsa's dress wildly. She felt the fear and the heavy burden of it restricting her lungs.

Jack held her by both arms and gave her a firm jostle,"Focus, Elsa. You're right. I know we just met, and I don't know what you've done. What I do know is that it can't be as bad as some of the things I'm guilty of." His eyes bored deep into hers. Trust me. I've done worse.

"You can't change the past, and there's no point to abusing yourself in penance. If you let me, I can teach you how to control it. You don't have to live in fear." He stared down at her, his cold heart twisting inside his chest. He felt her relax beneath his hold, and the wind died down.

Elsa's heart slowed to a steady rhythm. She knew she had severe repressed emotional issues, all she knew was to conceal and to shut down, how could she fix something so ingrained in her? Father thought he was helping when he taught me to hide this, but he only fueled the monster with fear. 

Seeing her disappear into her thoughts, Jack pulled her into his arms and held her. He felt her stiffen; and that made him smile. "It's just a hug, Elsa. Relax." The sweet smell of her hair filled his nostrils, causing his head to spin and his fingers to tingle.

She inhaled deeply and allowed her body to relax in exhale. Elsa, not ever keen on physical contact, allowed Jack's arms to envelope her completely. If she were honest, the feeling of it was surprisingly nice. Her hands slowly slid up his back in surrender to the contact. She rested her head on his chest, listening to quiet thrumming of his heart.

"Does this mean we're friends?" He teased.

An unguarded giggle rippled through her,"Yes, Jack. We're friends."

(That's it Ladies and Gents! I won't be updated until my vacation concludes on the 27th. Don't fret, I promise there's many things in store!!)


	12. The Past Never Dies

     The pages of the book were aged and fragile, much like the paper thin skin found on the back of an old woman's hand. Elsa carefully fingered through them, searching for the specific page number that listed and described the names of various Frost Giants and Gods. Her eyes expertly scanned through the "old language" and deciphered it's perplexing tales. This was the third book of Eddas that she had read through in the last four hours since beginning her quest to answer Jack's questionable origins; and yet she felt no where near a logical conclusion. _How could he truly not know? Many do not follow the old religion, but it was still common knowledge that had been passed down from generation to generation, she thought._

"What does this one say?" He asked, peering over the book, his expression was skeptical. The last two books had both held conflicting stories. One, a tale of a vengeful and malicious god, who found pleasure in the suffering of mortals. The other, a spirited but passionate god, tasked with bringing the change of season. The later, Jack far preferred, but he still doubted them to be of any truth. There was no explanation of why he could only recall the last two hundred years or so. How could these sagas possibly know about him when they were written long before he came to be? Something wasn't tallying up and it left a disturbing sense of question festering in his mind.

"This one, is completely different, but somehow the same. It's tying the two previous Eddas together and forming a somewhat cohesive storyline." Her eyebrows knit together in deep concentration.

Jack watched her with interest as she chewed on her bottom lip, her back further bowing over the large book. He couldn't make out anything the books in the library said. While he was well versed in Latin, his native tongue was English. However, the ancient runes of Proto-Norse held a magnetic pull that sparked his curiosity; a creeping curiosity that told him that he should know what they translated.

"Go on..." He crossed his legs "Indian" style as his form hovered in the air.

Elsa methodically scanned through a few pages, fingers trailing along the inked runes; her eyes lighting up like a child. "This is much like the den Gamle Tro (the old belief) my nursemaid would tell me as a little girl. It goes on to say that you, Jack Frost, also known as Jokul Frosti, is the son of Kari, the god of wind. Your grandfather is Fornjotr, the giant, named for the moon of Saturn." She paused, mulling over the information in front of her. "There's really no telling for sure what story holds truth, considering they all seem to be contradicting, but in my own conclusions, this one seems to make most sense. The truth ultimately lies within you, and remember, none of this could be of unquestionable truth; but it's certainly more logical than what you've come to believe. I honestly didn't think gods and goddesses existed, but then again, according to Christian orthodoxy neither should I."

 

_Hiso, Norway 400 A.D_

_The michevious but fearsome Frost Giant, and god of glaciers, Jokul Frosti ; dwelled in solitude. His home a great castle of ice, was of magnificence and foreboding; a fortress impenetrable by any mortal man. Frosti came to live on earth after leaving his father's kingdom on Jotunheimr. He delighted in his icy refuge, the company of obedient,but loyal soldiers being his only companions._

 

_Many gods and goddesses lived_ _amongst the mortal when it suited them, creating lineages of demigods, and taking pleasure in exercising their might. Jokul Frosti was not unlike them, but his pleasures were darker in nature. Many a mortal battle, Frosti would participate, quenching his thirst for blood. His brother, Snaer, kinder in nature, occasionally was found at his side during thus battles, aiding Frosti in his violent pursuits._

_Peace in the nine realms only soured Frosti's disposition. He was born to wage war and to thrill in the wake_ of carnage. _Many believed him to be purely of evil intent with no hint of humanity ; but that was until Mjoll._

 

_On a bitter eve, a woman, hours shy of her wedding day, wandered from her village. She trudged through the deep snow down to the river Nidelv to offer prayer to the goddess Frigg. Fearful of the brutality of her betrothed, the woman asked for protection. In her naivety, the young woman became lost in the blistering winds and blinding snow, drifting further and further from the village. Never was the woman frightened. In her mind, to succumb to the elements was better than marrying a brute of a man._

_Kneeling by the river's shore, her poorly made cloak did little to fight the frigid temperature. "Goddess, I open myself to your will. Take me on this journey, if thus is your plan. I do not fear the cold." Her voice strong and brave._

_A large icy hand gripped the woman by her shoulder, nails biting into her tender flesh like teeth. The woman bowed her head in reverence, accepting her fate. She would not fear death's touch. "Are you cold, beautiful one?" The voice deep and hollow, came unexpected._

 

_The woman's back_ straightened, _her head raised, eyes looking to the black water of the Nidelv. "I am not, my Lord."_

_The woman came to know the stranger as the Frost Giant, Jokul Frosti; renowned immortal of brutish tendencies. After her unwavering valor greatly impressed the god, he took possession of her name as well as her company. Unbeknownst to him, that the woman would become more to him than trivial entertainment._

 

A knock startled Elsa from her engrossed reading, her heart thudding rapidly behind her ribcage. "Yes?"

 

"Forgive me, your Majesty, but there are matters that greatly demand your attention." The muffled voice apologized.

Elsa sighed, irritated that she had to stop and attend to her duties, just when it was becoming interesting. She looked up at Jack, who had been silent in his concentrated listening, and gave him an apologetic shrug. "I have to go."

"Of course." He smiled. Jack stood as she rose to leave, accompanying her to the door.

"Will you stay? I mean... I understand if you have to go." Elsa's hands fidgeted nervously.

 

    Jack leaned against the door and let out a long sigh, arms folding across his chest. His expression was unreadable, and it unnerved the queen. She barely knew him. Surely she couldn't expect him to wait around for her like one of her obligated subjects. _There will never be enough time, will there?_

 

" Well, I'm not too sure. There's hundreds of people I have appointments with, and there's a few continents needing a blizzard or two." He grinned teasingly. Jack absorbed the way Elsa shifted uneasily, careful to conceal the emotions rippling inside. He was determined to crack that frozen facade of hers, whether she wanted him to or not.

 

     Unexpected relief spread across her when she realized his sarcasm. There was so much she wanted to know, but the requirements and responsibilities of her position limited her freedom. The power and advantages as sovereign ruler held much to desire, but to her they were chains, tying her to a life she was never truly in control of. It was a position she had never wanted for herself. Many times she had wondered how different things would have been if her younger brother had not died shortly after birth. By law, he would have been king, but life had a fickle way of balancing itself.

 

"I don't know how long I will be, but if you come to my room this evening, I can finish reading to you." The invitation was teetering on inappropriate, and she questioned whether it wise to be alone with a man unchaperoned. It wasn't that she feared Jack, no, she could easily handle him; but the reputation of a queen was imperative.

     His pose stiffened at her suggestion, and his cheeks grew warm. While he had no qualms with being alone with her, enjoying their privacy almost too much, he was taken aback by her carefree invite. He lowered his eyes to the floor, bowing slightly in respect. "I would like that very much. As for the waiting..' He looked up at her, eyes glinting with mischief. ' I've waited two hundred years to meet you, Elsa, what's in a day?"

 

     Jack bid her farewell and watched her leave the library, the door closing softly behind. Immediately he pulled off the jacket and stretched, the joints of his spine popping in final relief. Glancing out the window and judging the position of the sun, he concluded that it was a little past noon. Fingers pulling the hinges free and pushing the stained glass window open, Jack inhaled the salty air coming off the fjord. The day was still young and full of promise, but he found himself aching for the evening; questions humming through his head.

 

     Gathering up the magicked ice jacket and old book, Jack ventured into the empty hallway, hopeful that he could find his way around the large palace. Feet moving on their own accord, Jack made his way, mind tangled in thoughts of the information he had just learned. _Why is it, that I cannot remember anything before Burgess, Pennsylvania? Surely there has only ever been one "Jack Frost", but that doesn't explain why those books, written thousands of years ago would mention me._

_If that even "is" me. Though, I have to admit, that it's_ more _logical than a damn "moon_ " _creating me._

_How could I even believe that shit anyways?_

_The Guardians believe that joke of an explanation, but do they even really know?_

_My fucking head hurts._

_Where the hell am I even going?_

_Wasn't I just in this_ hallway?

_Dammit, I'm going in circles_.

     Jack came to a stop in front of a large portrait of a man and a woman. By the telltale crown on the man's head and regal military uniform, Jack guessed it to be a king and queen. Staring at the detail of the woman's face, he could see so much of Elsa's features. She looked kind. As kind as any painting rendition of a person could express. The king, on the other hand, had an "air" about him that Jack didn't like. _You seem like an asshole._

 

"They're my parents." A feminine voice answered from behind. Jack swung around, startled by the sudden appearance of Elsa's sister.

 

"Christ, you scared the piss out of me!" Jack's hand clutched at the cool flesh over his heart, the muscle thudding heavily beneath.

 

"Sorry! Kristoff tells me I have a bad habit of that." She smiled sheepishly. Anna rocked on the heels of her boots, eyes staring in adoration at the painting. "They died...just a little over three years ago." Her mouth pulled into a grimace.

 

"I'm very sorry to hear that." His tone was genuine, and it brought a smile to her lips. Jack watched her as she reached out and delicately traced the queen's skirt, her eyes distant as if caught in a treasured memory. "You miss them."

 

     Clearing her throat and shaking off the nostalgia, Anna's teal eyes looked at him, "Everyday." Her hand went to her braid and began fidgeting with the auburn strands. "Is Elsa in a council meeting?"

"Something of the sort." He shrugged.

"Well, if you're not too busy, would you like a proper tour of the palace?" Her eyes lit up excitedly.

 

      Deciding that trying to find his way around solo, would no doubt result in him getting lost, he nodded his head in acceptance. "I would like that very much."

      Looping her arm in his, as if old friends, she led him down the hall toward their awaited discoveries.

 

"Wait for me!" Anna stopped and turned, her mouth spreading into a wide grin.

"Hurry up, Olaf!" A gentle giggle resonated in her chest.

"Who's this?" The animated snowman asked, large eyes staring up in curiosity at the silver-haired man.

"Olaf, this is Jack Frost..." Anna watched them curiously.

 

     Jack, in all his years of wandering the corners of the earth, was not prepared for the shock he received. _Holy frozen shit! So this must be the snowman they spoke of_. Kneeling to get a closer look, he was surprised by how life-like the creature was. There were very few things that surprised him, but this took the cake. He had never made anything like this. His hand reached out, finger pushing into the snow.

     Immediately, a stick hand slapped away Jack's, a fit of giggles bursting from the snowman.

"That tickles!"

 

     Jack erupted in a fit of laughter, "You're bloody brilliant!" Standing, he circled Olaf, scratching his head out of perplexed amazement.

"Thank you? I think..." Olaf tapped Jack's pant leg, eyeing it suspiciously. "Who are you, again?"

 

     Anna reached out and took Olaf's hand and pulled him along; chiding him for being rude. The three of them made their way down the halls, as she chatted incessantly about her favorite rooms in the palace. Jack was content in allowing her to talk his ear off, it was far better than not being seen at all. Elsa's sister was a pleasant change from the reserved queen, not that he minded that about Elsa; he would gladly sit in silence if it meant that he could be near her. Anna, was just the opposite. Jack had the feeling that if he let her, she would chat away til tomorrow's dawn; and after years with no one to talk to, that was more than okay with him.

 

*****

 

     The ticking on the grandfather clock echoed through her head, drowning out the monotone fluctuation of her advisors' voice. Lunch had passed by with little notice from the council and the queen. As the orange and magenta rays of the setting sun glittered through the beveled glass windows, Elsa felt her resolve melting, and her feet tingling from falling asleep.

      Clearing her throat, she pushed herself out of her seat, the muscles in her legs stretching in relief. _I can't feel my ass._  

 

"Gentleman, I'm sure taxes can stand to wait til tomorrow. I think it's time to call it a day and adjourn. Go home to your families and have dinner with them. It's been a long day."

 

     She popped her knuckles and yawned. Happily obliged, the members of her council took their leave, exiting the throne room. A young servant appeared at Elsa's side, her curly brown hair bouncing about her shoulders as she curtsied. "Will your Majesty want supper in your chambers tonight? Or would you prefer to dine with your sister?"

     Elsa was exhausted, and while she loved sharing dinner with Anna, with what little energy she had left, she wanted to spend it with Jack. _It's because I promised to finish reading to him. Its definitely not for selfish reasons_.

"I'll take dinner in my chambers this evening. Please deliver my regrets to my sister. "

*****

 

     The firelight sparkled off the crystal wine glass, shooting beams of warm white dots across her face. Sipping silently on the ruby liquid, the effects warmed her body from the inside out. Her eyelids drooped heavily, the lack of proper sleep from the night before sending her limbs and mind into a state of fatigue. Then again, it could be the wine.

     The sun had completely set in the west, the glow from the fireplace and candles being the only source of illumination in her room. Her hair had been pulled free from it's braid, and now hung in pale waves down her back. She hadn't bothered changing out of her dress for the evening, secretly favoring the way she looked and felt in it. She closed her eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh.

 

"Long day?" His voice came in a cool whisper behind her ear.

     Elsa's heart gave a startled lurch but quickly settled when she recognized the voice. For the briefest of moments, believing it to be Hans. Jack walked around the plush velvet sofa she was curled up on and sat adjacent from her. He had the collar and top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the smooth alabaster skin beneath. His feet were once again bare, his boots abandoned someplace unknown.

     In the glow of the fire, his hair glinted like freshly fallen snow, and for the first time she truly absorbed his features. Jack's deep blue eyes reflected the flames like a mirror. Elsa felt herself involuntarily gasp, her cheeks flushing red. _What's wrong with_ _you_? He was far from the boy her book of fairytales had depicted. No... He was all man. "Is it that obvious?" She sputtered, eyes refocusing on the wine glass.

 

     Jack noticed the change in her demeanor and the way she tried gathering up her propriety. That made him smile. He relaxed info the chair, crossing his leg along the other, his arms stretched behind his head, and watched her curiously. "Did you miss me, Elsa?" Her ice blue eyes shot him daggers, but he knew he had struck a chord. _Even if you don't admit it, I know._

"Why do you ask?" She replied curtly, sipping on her wine. She did everything she could not to give herself away. _Damn the wine_...

     Jack shrugged, his face pulling into a teasing grin. "I missed you."

 

     Her heart have a squeeze. If he wanted a rise out of her, he wasn't going to get it. "You're full of shit."

 

     Jack chuckled, his head shaking in denial. How could someone so beautiful use such vulgarity? "Am I?" His eyes darkened, mood slightly shifting, his eyes roved over her almost hungrily. When his gaze met hers he was surprised to find them softened, liberated from her icy hold. He watched her lips move, tongue quickly tasting their surface, as if teasing him. _What's wrong with me? Christ, she's doing that on purpose, right?_ Jack's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding and locking down in objection to his motives. Her eyebrow raised in question, head tilting to the side.

 

     "What are you thinking about Jack?" She asked finally.

     Jack cleared his throat, stood from his seated position and walked over to the mantle. Hands in his pockets, he tried to loosen the tightness in the icy fabric of his pants, careful not to draw too much attention to his plight. "You don't want to know."


	13. Memories of Winter

T _he man came round to face her and she lifted her eyes to him; his feet bare in the snow, hair black as a raven, was tied back at the base of his skull, and his eyes burned gold like embers. His expression was cruelly interested and cynical. The man's boney fingers traced along her jawline, intentionally leaving a trail of grey flesh. The temperature plummeted, and a chill ran down her spine._

_  
Mjoll's hands buried in the snow at her sides, the fabric of her dress began to saturate with it's wetness. Her eyes were trained on the pale stranger before her, carefully watching the way he carried himself._

  
_"You are not cold, sweet girl?" His lips pulled into a malicious grin, hopeful that she would relent. He found her bravery enchanting, yet unsettling. Most mortal men would quake in his presence. Perhaps she did not recognize the monster before her._

  
_"I am no girl." Her eyes darkened, voice heavy with venom.  
Jokul's chest tightened at her reply. She was not afraid of him. His hand reached out to her, palm open to receive hers. "Foolish of me to assume so. Take my hand, my lady, and we will see if you change your mind."_

  
_Mjoll hesitated at first, but gathered her courage, and placed her slender hand into his. The man's flesh sent jolts of ice into her veins, the supple warmth of her palm colored blue, bitten with frost. His eyes were intent with expectation, but his cruel mouth began to falter.  
"The cold never bothers me." She said in confidence, the wind pulled at her platinum blonde hair, twisting and whipping it's waves about her face._

 

      _Jokul's expression softened as he pulled her to stand before him. The action slightly surprised her, a small gasp escaping her plump purpled lips. He stared down into the woman's face, captivated by the unique beauty that showed no fear.  
"What is your name?" He asked curiously._

 _  
"Mjoll, my Lord." Her hea_ d bowed in respect, further flattering the frost giant.

  
      _Wrapping his large hand around hers, he pulled her into his frame, eyes flashing shades of blue before returning to the color of molten gold._

  
      _Her heart shaped face looked up into his, expression unreadable and reserved. "Will you come then? Or shall I leave you to the elements?"_

 _  
Mjoll, always eager for an adventure or pursuit of the unknown, felt no reason to re_ fuse _his offer, but before she sold her fate, his name was all she desired to know. "I will have my Lord's name, before I give answer."_

 _  
"Do you not know? Have you not heard the tales?" Hands sliding up her arms and tracing along her collarbone, Jokul smiled darkly_ , _anticipating her reaction. " I am known as Jokul Frosti, God of Glaciers. Tell me now, have you decided?"_

_  
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin to look him in the eye, she made up her mind. Mjoll knew well, of the tales of the god, but none struck a chord of fear quite like her betrothed. "I will come with you."_

  
******

 

     His eyes reflected flames as he lost himself in their hypnotizing dance. Jack's forehead furrowed, lines etching across his young face. Elbow braced on the arm of the chenille chair and chin resting on his fist, he listened to Elsa's lulling voice. Her words wove a tapestry of myth and history, gracefully retelling memories his mind was free of.

 

 

 _Jokul had brought the courageous maiden to his home, granting her power over his soldiers and domain. In time, he came to love her, a foreign emotion that forever changed the cruel god's heart.  
Mjoll too, found her heart yearning_ for Jokul, _and professed her undying devotion to him._

_Uncommon amongst the immortal, Jokul took Mjoll as his bride despite her mortality. Many years they spent together, content in their peaceful and quiet life. It was not long before Mjoll fell with child, it was a joyous time for the two, but the pregnancy was not without it's complications._

_On the nigh of summer, the baby came, and with glorious new life came the sorrow of death. Mjoll, frail from the birth of a son, did not live to see the dawn, nor the blizzard that ravaged the country.  
Lost in his grief, Jokul spurned his son, commanding that the babe be taken from his sight and given to one capable of caring for him. His brother, Snaer, brought the babe_ to _the nearby kingdom, and bestowed the child to the king and queen as a gift from the gods. From thus on, the child was adopted as the king's own son, prized above all his children._

 

     Elsa stopped reading, her mouth taught with apprehension. Her heart ached for the poor man seated to her left. She looked over at Jack, watching him stare into the fireplace. As if sensing her gaze, his head turned and looked back at her, his expression confused.

  
"I had a wife? And a son?" His question hung heavily in the air.

    Elsa felt her heart collapse inward at his question. Compassion for him and the god in the story made her fingers tingle with the want to comfort. It was an emotion she had not experienced often. Light blue eyes darting back to the pages, she resisted the urge, focusing on answering his questions."According to this Edda, you do, but like I said before, we can't be too sure. Well, I can't. This all really falls on you remembering." She scratched absentminded at her hairline, giving him a half smile.

"Well, unless you can restore lost memories, I don't see how I will ever know for certain." He sighed, stretching his legs out in front of him.

  
 Elsa suddenly stood up, the book sliding to the floor in a flurry of pages, and a look of excitement in her eyes. "That's it!"

  
"Really? On top of your abilities to animate snowmen, build ice windows, freeze anyone you touch, and create clothes out of ice, you can conjure lost memories too?" He teased, his sarcasm turning into a playful smile.

  
     Forming a snowball in her hand, she tossed it forcefully at Jack, striking him squarely in the jaw. "You forgot to mention snowballs." Her eyes sparkled, daring him to retaliate.

  
     Rubbing the red spot on his face from where the snowball struck, Jack slowly rose to his feet, squaring away his shoulders. His forehead wrinkled and his mouth twisted in mischief. "Two can play at that game."  
     Somersaulting backwards through the air, perfectly rounded balls of snow formed in his hands. Jack launched the two expertly at her, careful to not strike her face; a small mercy only granted to her.  
Elsa flipped rather clumsily over the sofa, dodging over to her bed as the two snowballs collided with her lower back and rear. Mouth agape in surprise, she shot out four more in his direction, hopeful that they would hit their target. Before seeing if they had done so, she skidded along the icy patch that had formed on the wood floor, and hid behind her bed, ducking every so often as snow bombs sailed past her.

  
"That's cheating." He scoffed, bending and turning to avoid her poorly aimed attempts.

  
"No it's not! It's called a barricade." Laughter rippled through her, energy pulsing through her body and warming her to the core. She hadn't had this much fun in ages.

  
     Jack flew through the air, stopping behind her, his hand grasping her forearm before she could launch another attack. "Barricades are against the rules." He breathed an icy wind down her back, watching in satisfaction as she shivered.

  
"When did we establish a set of rules?" She turned to face him, his hand still clamped around her arm. Her eyes looked up into his, finding the flecks of gold in his irises to be particularly lovely.

  
"We haven't... Yet."

  
    Elsa felt his free hand snake around her, settling on her lower back. Her feet moved of their own accord, bringing her close enough to see the steady pulsing of the artery in his neck. She could smell the scent of pine on him and the mingling of something she couldn't pinpoint. _I shouldn't be doing this._

     His deep blue eyes gazed into hers and his mouth twitched anxiously. She felt his hand slide up her arm and bury itself in her hair, stroking the silky platinum strands. Her eyelids fluttered shut, her resolve melting like snow. _I should stop._

     Jack felt his pulse quicken, his throat drying as his gaze swept over her face. Something about this woman drew out emotions and desires he never thought he had. It was as if they were two magnets, drawn to each other by a force invisible to the naked eye. Reason and propriety told him this was unacceptable behavior on his part, but he couldn't remember ever wanting something so strongly as he did now. An echo, deep in his bones and the shadow of his mind, hummed and whispered. _This is right._

  
     His head lowered to hers, resting forehead to forehead. Elsa's eyes opened then, staring into the deep waters of Jack's. She felt herself drawing further into him, releasing herself to the intoxicating sensation of being this close to another person; but the frightened girl inside would not permit such intimacy. Her hand slid up his chest and gently pushed him away.

  
"It's getting late, Jack."

  
******

  
     Clearing his throat, he backed away, head whirling from an onslaught of emotions. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, he gave her a rueful grin. "You're quite right. Wouldn't want to give the staff something to gossip about."

  
Elsa's cheeks flushed pink, her eyes adverting from his. _Prat_. "I really must get some well-rounded sleep before tomorrow's busy agenda. I'm sorry, Jack. I wish I could be free to run away with you on adventures, but I can't." She looked down at her hands, fingers frosted blue from the stress.

  
"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Elsa. I'm quite aware of your position.' He reached out to her, lifting her chin to see her eyes. 'I'll never be too far to hear you call me. You only have to say my name and I'll be here."

  
"Are you making a promise?" Her question was cautious. Promises were something she didn't take lightly. Her parents had promised to come home after two weeks of being away. Anna had promised she would never leave, but the more hers and Kristoff's love blossomed, the less Elsa believed her.

  
"I'm making you a promise, Elsa." His tone was firm and nothing like the playful Jack she had come to know.

  
     Walking to the window, she felt herself reluctant to say goodbye; fearful that all of this had been a dream. She had often questioned her reality after Anna had frozen to death. Maybe this was a conjured world, one that she lived in to escape the pain from killing her sister. "You don't have to leave. I can have the staff prepare a room for you."

  
"Don't trouble yourself. I prefer the outdoors." He gave her a wink.

  
"There is an ice castle I built on the North mountain, just over there.' Jack followed to where she pointed out the window. 'I made it several weeks ago. It needs a few repairs, but other than that, it's quite cozy."

  
His hand slid along the smooth wet sheet of ice, trails of ivy-like frost etching into the magicked window. Jack silently summoned his staff and looked at the woman before him. He wanted to spend the rest of his immortal life listening to her talk. He would gladly sit in silence as she read all the books in her library to him, mesmerized by her ability to bring the words to life by the fluctuation of her voice.  
"We'll see each other soon." He assured her; deep down he was actually assuring himself. _Small doses. She'll miss me more that way._

  
     Elsa nodded her head in agreement, her left hand pressed against the ice, creating an opening. She watched as he lifted into the air and out the window. The moon was full, almost close enough to touch. It highlighted his skin, casting a pale glow along his cheekbones. "Two days."

  
"What do you mean, two days?" His hands spun the staff around, tossing it up into the night's air.

  
"Give me two days, and then I'm yours for the weekend." Her mouth drew up into a smile. "Unless you have better things to do."

Jack snatched her hand then and brought it to his mouth, planting a soft but lingering kiss upon the delicate flesh. "Nothing better than you, my queen."

 

 

 

 

Notes:

(It's not very long, and I'm sorry for that. However, the storyline is about to pick up and I know many of you will be pleased by that. Let me know how you liked this little chapter!)


	14. The Returned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for how long it's taken to post this.

Jack felt his heart clench in retaliation to their separating, but deep down he knew that she needed time. Time. An incredibly bewitching thing, it was; never moving as one would have it. Jack had all but forgotten it's significance and value. He forgot what it was like to grasp at it with sweaty palms, desperate to control it's passing.

     The air rippled through his hair as he embraced the current of the wind. The stars filled the sky like diamonds set into the ocean. They beamed and sparkled at him as if saying "hello".

     His body, weightless in his flight, soared above the mountains and tumbled skillfully through the clouds until he came upon the castle made of spun ice. It rose in pointed peaks like those of Saint Basil's Cathedral in Moscow. The craftsmanship was breathtaking and it sent waves of pride pulsing through his body. His eyes roved over the delicate curve of the staircase leading to the front doors.

     A large portion of the ice had been broken away, leaving it's structural integrity compromised. With a gentle rap of his staff, the ice stitched and melded, repairing itself to a fully functional state. His fingers slid along the glassy rail, feet padding swiftly as he ascended the staircase. Stopping at the entrance, Jack's attention was drawn to several arrows buried into the icy door. _What happened here?_

     Yanking the arrows free and smoothing the surface, Jack pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside. The ceilings vaulted as if in desperation to kiss the heavens, clear enough to see the stars and moon through it's shelter. There was no visible trace that anyone had actually occupied the castle long enough to furnish it. Making his way up the stairs, he found himself awestruck by the flawless architecture and apparent pride that had been poured into creating this fortress.

     When entering what he guessed to be Elsa's intended room, he felt a spark of rage ignite in his bones as he took in the damage that had been done. Something happened here. The chandelier in pieces at the center of the room, splatters of blood that had soaked into the floor of ice, angry spikes of black ice bowing from the walls in defense, and scattered arrows along the floor unsettled Jack's nerves.

     Kneeling near the shattered chandelier, Jack's finger traced the splotches of blood. The twisting in his gut told him who the blood had belonged to, and fury swore that he would have answers. _Why didn't she tell me about this_? Fear swirled and lingered in the room like a bad omen, and Jack was determined to rid Elsa's sanctuary of it.

     It didn't take him long to put the room "right", adding his own embellishments and items of comfort. The bed he had constructed matched the opulence and splendor deserving of a king, or in this case a Snow Queen. Etchings of rosemaling and frosted ivy weaved along the bed frame and posts, whispering their heritage.

 "Still a perfectionist, I see."

     Jack's heart slammed into his ribcage at the deep voice. Whipping round, his staff clutched defensively in both hands as he eyed the stranger before him. The man was tall, deathly pale in features, and eyes a molten gold accentuated by pitch black hair that swooped back as if the wind had styled it so.

"Who might I ask, are you?" Jack straightened his back, eyes carefully trained on the dark stranger. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar, but he was certain he had never seen him before now. He watched as the man casually slipped his hands from his maroon trousers and folded them across his chest.

 "Skadi truly did a number on you, Jokul. I'll have to see if I can remedy that. All in due time of course." The man beamed at Jack, displaying a mouth full of abnormally sharpened teeth.

     Jack felt a chill run down his spine at the name the stranger addressed him by. His body stiffened, coiled and ready for battle. Why he felt so threatened by this man, confused him. The answer was as unknown to him as was the name, Jokul."Have we met before?" Jack knew the answer was no, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he should recognize this man.

     The stranger tilted his head back and let out a hearty chuckle. The sound reverberated in Jack's ears like a long forgotten song. "We have. A lifetime ago, in fact. You must forgive me Jokul, I've long imagined this day for some centuries now. I have to admit, that it's quite more entertaining than I had envisioned.' The man glanced out the doors and onto the balcony as if seeing someone, then back again at Jack. 'Seems father has found you worthy of a second chance, my brother."

*****

"Brother?" Jack snorted in disbelief. His grip on the staff slackened. "I don't have a brother." The dark haired man's eyebrows raised in humored question.

"No? I don't suppose you remember much of your beginnings, Jokul? Does the past seem a bit... dark?" His mouth spread into a sharp smile. Taking a seat in a nearby chair of ice, the man relaxed in content comfort.

     Jack found himself drawing closer to the stranger, curiosity tickling his subconscious. Two days ago, he was invisible to the world. A curse that he had spent lifetimes questioning for purpose. The beginning was darkness. There was nothing before that.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jack finally replied. The man laughed at that, his head shaking to and fro at Jack's denial.

 "Oh don't think me foolish, Jokul. You've never convinced me with your quick lies. You're not making this very fun are you?" He raised himself from the chair and in a blink, was upon Jack, eyes locked onto his. "You're younger than you were."

 "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jack tried to step back, but was stopped short by the iron-like hold the man had on Jack's arm."...The hell are you doing?"

     The man leaned in close, an almost cruel grin pulling at his lips. "Do you want to remember, Brother?" Jack's heart stilled in his chest. _Remember what exactly?_ Who was this man that called him brother, and regarded him as if they had known each other all their lives?

"Your curiosity betrays you. It always has."

"You still haven't told me who you are." Jack's tone was flat, and as disinterested as he could manage.

"I have many names, just as you, but I take preference in being addressed as Snaer." The man's reply was smooth and confident.

"Now, let us remedy your situation." Jack stiffened in Snaer's hold, unwilling to relinquish control of whatever was to happen just yet. There were a few things he wanted to know before he could somewhat trust this man claiming to be his brother.

"How did you find me, and why after all this time? " Snaer's grip slackened, his boney index finger trailed from Jack's arm and stopped in front of his heart.

"I felt this. It's been silent for centuries, but there was no mistaking it's vibrations last night."

     Jack looked incredulously at Snaer. "You felt me? How is that even possible?" Snaer smiled and casually shrugged.

"It's in our shared blood. In time, you will sense me, just as I you. It's a part of our immortality and bond as family."

Jack scratched at the back of his neck and put his weight onto his staff. "So until yesterday, you couldn't feel me? What changed?"

Snaer's eyes flashed menacingly. "Father. He deemed you finally worthy of a second chance. He rarely consults with me these days, so I cannot rightly say why he chose now. Perhaps he will entertain your questions... after all, you are still his favorite.' His lips drew back in a snarl at that. ' Tell me, how was your "purgatory"?

     Jack's head swam with questions and disbelief. The longer he was in this man's presence, the more he felt himself responding and aching to know more. There was only so much a book could provide in revelation of his past. "Prove it."

     Snaer, reached out and grasped Jack by the shoulders and closed his eyes. Immediately Jack was pulled into another reality, finding himself side by side with the stranger. His attention was drawn to two young boys chasing one another down corridors made of black ice; Both, completely unaware of the two men watching them.

 "I'll tell mother what you've done, Jokul!" The smaller of the boys hollered out to the other as he desperately tried to keep up. The larger boy turned, his deep blue eyes glinting mischievously, as he stared back at the younger one.

 "Don't be such a baby, Snaer. I was only having a little fun. Your pet isn't truly dead, see?" He held up an unrecognizable creature that squirmed between his small hands.

 "Why do always tease me, Frosti?"

 "Because your my little brother."

     The moment passed in a shimmer of fog and Jack was once again in the present, awestruck by the uncanny likeness to him, of the older brother. "Show me then." The words came before he had truly decided.

     The cold fingers of his hands wrapped around both sides of Jack's head, pressing firmly into the flesh beneath the soft white hair. Snaer leaned his head in, mere inches from his brother's.

 "This may sting."

     He felt a surge of pain burst behind his eyes, spiraling down his neck and into his extremities. Nausea billowed behind his stomach and he felt his tear ducts release a warm liquid. The sound ripping through his mind and his ears could easily be compared to the crashing of the sea's waves around one's head when pulled beneath it's dark waters. Images spilled into the hollow places of his mind, filling the void of long forgotten memories. The pressure building behind his skull was enough to bring him to his knees.

 "Almost there, my brother." Snaer's voice echoed. The flash of platinum blonde, pulled Jack's chaotic thoughts and memories to a halt. A voice, soft and gentle as freshly fallen snow hummed through the corners of his mind. He felt his heart give a painful squeeze and a guttural cry tore from his throat. _Mjoll_.

*****

     His breath came in ragged gasps. Hands braced on the floor as he knelt, head bowed as if in prayer, was all that kept him from collapsing from disorientation or vomiting all over himself. A steady drizzle of blood from his nose splattered on the icey floor, staining the ground red. His eyes were squeezed shut, hesitant to open.

 "Unpleasant isn't it? It will pass." Snaer patted Jack's head in half sympathy. He walked around his brother, eyeing him in genuine curiosity at his handiwork.

     Minutes went by before Jack raised his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, and stared past his brother, eyes fixated on the wall. "She's alive."

     Snaer proudly folded his arms across his chest. "Yes. I've been watching over her for years. She's Mjoll reincarnated. Though, not quite. Much like you, her memories are dormant. Unlocking them may prove to be complicated considering she's half immortal."

     Jack's eyes snapped to his brother, golden fires blazing behind the blue. "Half immortal? Is this body not alike hers?" He moved from his knees to a standing position, his frame drawn tight like the strings of a bow. The air about him swirled with ancient notes.

     Snaer shook his head. "You were not born of a mortal. You were merely raised by one. When Skadi cursed you, she returned you to infancy, and placed you at the breast of a mortal woman whom had lost her sickly babe."

     Jack felt his forehead crease in comprehension mixed with subtle confusion. Snaer, seeing this, continued with his explanation. "Elsa, is yours and Mjoll's descendant. The blood has weakened throughout the centuries, but nevertheless remained intact. As fate would have it, Mjoll's soul has been reborn, only this time, she is has our family's immortal blood running through her veins."

     Jack could feel the whispering of another's thoughts inside his head. It was as if there were two of him dwelling inside his body. The sensation felt queer, but welcoming. The holes in his memories had been filled, and for the first time, he had an understanding of who he was. His muscles and tendons flexed in response and recognition to the "old" soul now dwelling within.

     He felt the urgency to be with Elsa. It consumed him like never before. To touch her, to take her, force her denied compliance and make her his, beckoned at his subconscious. It demanded to be obeyed. Jack felt his resolve burning away as the feeling he had for Mjoll rooted further into his heart. His body and soul ached for her. "How can I make her remember?" His eyes shimmered back to their original blue.

 

     "I'm not sure you can, Jokul. She is of new flesh, and not fully immortal. The process could kill her, or cause her to go mad. You can, however, share some of your memories without causing harm. Because you share blood, you can connect. Just as I can with you. The difference is , you are not replacing what was lost; only showing a moment once shared. That may be enough, or it may not. I cannot make you the promise that it will help."

     Jack let go of the staff, and watched it fall to the floor; the sound of it's collision with the solid ice reverberating against the walls. For centuries he believed his source of power was tied to the staff, but in his revelation, he learned it was always in his blood. His hands felt free of the weight and it stirred a self awareness that he longed for. Walking towards the balcony, his clothing shimmered and changed into that of which told of his birthright and hailing.

     Trousers black as coal, waistcoat perfectly paired in it's shadowy effect, glistened with deep blue veins of icey thread along the breastbone, swirling into ancient runes. His sleeves stretched down to the joints of his fingers, buttoned alongside the curvature of his wrist. The collar stopped at his Adam's apple, leaving very little to reveal of the pale skin beneath. Feet, still bare, padded against the ice floor in silent skill towards the railing of the balcony.

     Daylight had come and the burning of the day's rays were dwindling to it's close. The hours moved without notice as he stared toward the kingdom of Arendelle, his brother by his side in companioned silence.

   _So much time has passed since I've seen her. These eyes, my own, but strangers to me, have seen her face. These new memories of her, so alike Mjoll, yet so different, are agonizing to process._

  _Elsa is her own person. She may look like Mjoll, maybe even behave similarly, but she is not her, and won't be so compliant to entertain your advances, Jokul_.

   _Ah, but she's drawn to you, Jack. You cannot deny it. She senses her bond with you. The woman is tenacious, but her resolve will bend eventually_.

  _I will not force her into anything. I want her to want me, us; but I will not accept anything that's not of her own choosing._

_We won't force her, but you and I both can see that she closes herself off and shuts down to letting herself feel. I see that in your memories, Jack._

  _Based on your memories, I can_   _where she gets that stubbornness..... Will it always be like this? Will I always feel like I've got another person in my head?_

  _In time, Jack, we will become one. You will not lose your integrity, and neither will I. We are the same person, we are disjointed and fractured. Once set, we will mend and bond, the line of our differences no longer visible, but made stronger._

 

     "Inner demons, brother?" Snaer's voice broke his concentration.

 "Is it that obvious?" Jack's mouth pulled into a smile.

 "Well, considering we've been standing here for a few hours while you reconcile with your inner-self, I'd have to say yes.... Don't worry, it will pass, Hopefully.....You could very well go mad." A chuckle shook his frame.

 "Thanks for the reassurance... I think." He leaned back and took in the stars, pinpointing the planets in the distance.

 "What are you waiting for?" Jack's eyes squinted, his god eyes adapting to the distance and seeing the glow of light coming from her room.

 "She asked me to give her time."

 "How fucking noble of you. Don't you think you've waited long enough, brother? How long has it been?" His tone was borderline jesting, but his words struck a chord.

 "Centuries."

 *****


	15. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the time nor the patience to insert the italics—so I hope these chapters are not too confusing.
> 
> *also, I do not have the intention of finishing this work. It has been over two years since I lay it dormant. These two added chapters are just the last two I never added to Ao3.*

The coverlet was pulled to her chin. Her breathing came in a soft and even rhythm. Mouth pursed in sleep and brow lax in peacefttul reverie, Elsa looked years younger than her true age. Jack felt the dark urge to rip back the bedclothes and wrap his flesh around hers.

We're not doing that.

But you want to...

Of course I want to! But I'm no fucking fool, either. Do that, and to hell with ever getting her to trust me again. As much as her soul is Mjoll, Elsa is still her own free thinking person. I may not have known her long, but given the time I've had watching humans interact, I'd say I'm pretty adept to reading them. She's not ready for any of this quite yet.

As you wish... But we both know it's going to take a little "push".

...  
...

Jack?

I heard you!

Stop talking to me, Jokul. It's driving me manic!

  
Jack carefully reached down and brushed back a stray hair from her face. She didn't stir. Slowly kneeling beside the bed, Jack balanced himself like a cat, careful not to make a noise. Before thinking better of it, he gently pressed his index and middle finger against her exposed temple. He had no experience with such things, but there was a growing sense of confidence building inside.

You don't need to think.

The memory came spilling out like a cascade of fog, enveloping them like a glove. Minds intertwined, one asleep, the other awake; both knit together like the tapestries decorating the walls. Jack was pulled, soul first into a time long lost.

Her laughter filled the room as her body moved as if in a dance. The clang of steel and the scent of sweat filled the space. Their bodies colliding and ricochetting off the other, her hair sticking to her sweat-soaked brow and the way she bit her lower lip in deep concentration made the monster dwelling inside come to his knees. Jokul, dipped to the right, too slow to avoid the sting of cool metal biting into tender flesh. Her eyes blazed with mischief, teeth gleaming in victorious laughter. His fingers curiously prodded the now healing wound and brought them up to eye level; blood coating the pale digits.

"I've killed men for less."

Her face broke into a half sympathetic expression. Dragging her left hand across her forehead, Mjoll let the sword in her right lower. "Shall I kiss it for you?"

His large hand was wrapped around her neck in seconds, his gold eyes boring into her blues. She made no effort to break free, nor did her eyes reflect any hint of fear. Jokul could feel the steadied pulse in the delicate flesh of her throat. His thumb stroked the smooth skin, feeling the dampness of her exertions from swordplay.

"Facetious minstrel...You would do well to remember your unchecked tongue, woman." His mouth was inches from her face. The scent of her filled his senses and sent a fire roaring through his veins.

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened. "Forgive me, my Lord. I didn't realize we weren't yet past subtleties."

Jokul's hand gently tightened as he pulled her to him, mouth closing over hers. He felt her body tense beneath him and then relax as his grip on her throat released and moved into her wild hair.

Mjoll's hand slackened, sword clashing against the stone floor in a deafening clang of metal. Jokul felt her small hands slide up his chest and cling to his forearms. All his god-like resolve melted as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting the remnants of wine. He felt himself grow dizzy at the feeling of her supple body pressed against his; the response unlike any he had experienced before. No immortal woman had stirred such fires inside him.

"I'm yours, Jokul."she breathed against his lips. "If you'll have me."

The scene swirled into a blur once more and then refocused.

Fingers skimmed along the delicate curve of her collarbone, causing the skin to rise in tiny bumps of goose flesh. Her head tilted back, hair unraveled and draped down her backside in a curtain of corn silk. Jokul's gut clenched at the way her mouth opened slightly in surprise at his touch.

"Do you know what it is you're asking of me?" His eyes quivered and a blue glow began to envelope the gold. His hand gently captured her face, fingers tracing the high cheekbones of her viking heritage. Mjoll's trusting eyes stared back at his with an intensity that threatened to bring him to his knees in worship. "I could kill you."

"You won't."

"So sure headed?" He parried.

Hand sliding up his bare chest, Mjoll brought it to a halt over his heart. Feeling the strong thrum beneath cool flesh, she closed her eyes in thought. He may be immortal, but he was still flesh and bone. Cruel, he was, but there was tenderness hidden underneath the savagery. "I'm not afraid of you."

The sound of fabric ripping from flesh echoed in the warm confines of the bedchamber. Her eyelids squeezed tightly in response, shielding herself from the way his gaze scorched her core. The remnants of her dress slid to the floor in a heap of sweat dampened linen. Every fine hair on her body stood on end at the exposure, and Mjoll's skin warmed and pinked in growing awareness of his eyes.

"Look at me." His breath was cool against her feverish skin.

Jokul cupped her chin and raised it, watching her thick lashes flutter in defiance. The pad of his thumb traced her full lips, imagining the things he would fancy them doing. Her blue eyes opened then, staring back at him for the first time with apprehension.

"Jokul, I've never..." Her words were cut short by the intrusion of his mouth on hers. His hands roved the naked flesh, exploring the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips. Mjoll's breath caught in her chest as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Gently, he laid her upon the furs, his body crouching at her feet.

"I worship you...body and soul." His words melted the fear that held her frozen.

Mjoll's chest quivered with every nervous breath she took, the flesh of her nipples growing taut with aroused expectation. Slowly reaching out, palm up, she took his hand into hers, pulling him forward. "Come then."

  
Elsa let out a moan, breaking Jack's focus and bringing them both cascading into the present. Pulling the thick crushed velvet of the draperies around him, and careful not to draw notice, Jack held his breath. He watched through the slender parting of fabric for movement. For a brief moment Jack had wondered if it was he who had cried out, but the sound echoed in his head, assuring him he had heard correctly.

His eyes intently watched the figure in the bed, wary of her waking. Several minutes passed without disturbance or hinting of her stirring and with great reluctance, he turned towards the window of ice and silently created an exit.

"Don't go. I know you're there." Her voice was firm.

His heart slammed into his rib cage. Fingers gripping the solid ice of the makeshift window threatened to crush the matter into millions of pieces. Gathering what little reserve he had, Jack turned to face her. The moonlight spilled onto the bed, highlighting her frame; hair spun silver in its luminescent glow, skin a shade of pristine opal. Swallowing back his groan of desire, Jack forced a gentle smile.

"Elsa, I'm sorry that..."

"No you're not." She cut him short. Her eyes were almost black at this distance.

She hasn't changed.

Quiet, Jokul.

Go to her.

Not unless she asks.

You're a fool.

  
His fingers dug deeply into the flesh of his palms creating half moon indentations. Pushing past the heavy draperies, Jack stood in the open, readying himself for whatever scolding she was to unleash.

"Come closer."

Obeying her demands, he glided to the side of the bed in one blink. Her delicate hand gripped the satin sheets at her sternum, her expression held something he couldn't fathom to interpret, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

"You've changed." She accused.

"Have I?" His eyebrows knit together. He watched as she released the blanket and climbed out of bed. She was dressed immodestly, but it didn't bother him, much. Elsa walked around him, fingers sliding along the ice black fabric of his clothes, eyeing the designs curiously. Jack's eyes shut in reflex to her gentle touch on his neck. Her fingers slid into the silk strands and fanned them out between her fingers.

"Your hair is different." Her breath was warm on his skin.

"Is it?" He exhaled, head turning to look into her eyes.

"Yes. Before it was almost like snow; shimmering white and translucent. But now the white is gone, with silver in its place. Are you in habit of changing your appearance, Jack?"

Jack's hand cupped her face and stroked the high cheekbones. He half expected her to pull away, but his gut clenched tightly when she remained unmoved. "Did you miss me?" Were the words his own or the monster inside?

I heard that. Didn't I tell you that you'd soon fail to differentiate between us?

"Yes." She breathed.

Her answer brought him back. His hand slid, of its own will, behind her neck and pulled her into his frame, arms wrapping around her small body. The connection brought a growing awareness that neither could ignore and Jack could feel the shift in her mood.

"Do you wish me to stay?" He whispered into her hair. Her breathing came in exhales of warm fog clouds against the dipping temperature of the room. Jack's hand stroked her hair, twisting and wrapping the strands around his fingers.

"Will you?" Her eyes bore up into his.

Jack pressed his mouth to Elsa's forehead, inhaling the scent of her, and savoring the delicious feel of her against his body.

"I'll stay... Now to bed with you." Jack, using his best imitation of authority pushed her gently onto the bed, and gave her a playful grin.

Elsa grasped his wrist, preventing him from walking away. "Will you come to bed?"

 

  
(Author's Notes:

I know it's kind of short, but I am already working on the next chapter which, to your delight and torture, may or may not include some long awaited steam. I'm yet undecided. So please bear with me and this very short chapter, and be reassured that the next will make up for it.

And yes... Margot Robbie is my Elsa (in my minds eyes) and as for my Jack, Taron Egerton (because, well, he's just so like my Jack)


End file.
